Grocery Shopping for Persona
by foxtrotelly
Summary: Why grocery shopping for Persona is a mission impossible among others. -EspionAlice #2


So here's a spin-off to **A Day in the Life of the Kitty and the Spot**. This came to me unexpectedly, but after my friend told me to go write about it some more, I got this idea.

**Disclaimer: Gakuen Alice copyright © Tachibana Higuchi, 2003-Present

* * *

**

**Grocery **Shopping for Persona

_**by foxtrotelly**_

_~ For missyJuliette's birthday ~_

_Belated happy birthday, imouto. :) THIS is your real birthday gift._

**O_O**

_FSSSSSSHHHHHH…_

The wind quickly rushes by, whistling loudly past Natsume's ears. Apparently, he is currently falling off a building on a Wednesday night — just the usual. Before long, as he plummets to a distance of barely ten feet away from the ground, he twists his body around midair. His face now to the ground, he instinctively sends out a powerful blast of fire that is strong enough to cushion his fall.

Natsume crashes to the ground on his side, slightly shaken. As he looks up, he sees a figure running towards him.

"Natsume! Are you alright?"

It doesn't take him a second to grumble out an automatic response. "I never am."

Tsubasa sighs at the answer. "Ah well, you're some kid who'll always have his issues, sheesh," Tsubasa mutters, mostly to himself. He holds out his hand to Natsume. "C'mon, we better get going."

Natsume stares at Tsubasa's outstretched hand. "Yeah, and you're some idiot." Sitting up, he cricks his neck and reaches for something inside his shirt.

"Oh the blueprints! And I thought you weren't gonna be able to get them," Tsubasa says in relief—apparently with no ill intentions intended.

Natsume's eyes narrow into a dangerous glare. "And what was that supposed to mean?"

Tsubasa goes on, not the least bit scared. "Have you seen those floor guards? They were more like demon ninja assassins of the Sengoku period, Natsume!"

"Your point?"

Tsubasa's nostrils flare. "Y'know what… Ok fine, I get it!" He throws his hands up mock exasperatedly, then sarcastically comments, "I don't supposethose _shurikens_ can pierce through my shadow and make it bleed to death, right?"

Natsume rolls his eyes, not bothering to answer to that.

"Right, right. You're just simply grateful and relieved I'm alright. And alive," Tsubasa replies to his own little remark, mock flattered. He places a hand on Natsume's shoulder. "But really, how hard was it on your floor anyway?"

Natsume none too gently brushes off Tsubasa's hand on his shoulder. "They had _katanas_," he says flatly.

Tsubasa shrugs. "_Shurikens_ kick _katana_ asses."

"They had motion-detecting laser beams."

"_Psh,_ big deal."

"I just fell off a hundred-foot drop."

"Try falling off a cliff."

"And it might as well have been as hard as…" Natsume trails off, ashamed of his incompetence.

Tsubasa's eyes widen in disbelief. "_No?_"

"Yes, _kage._"

"Not even."

"And you know what date it is today?"

"_Oh God._ It's not…?"

"Oh but it is."

"Oh shit no."

* * *

"Soo… You got yourself a girlfriend now?"

Natsume glares at him. "_What,_ so am I obliged to answer that as well?"

More than most things, he definitely hated having to be with Tsubasa.

Burrowing his hands deeper into his hoodie, Natsume grumbles something unintelligible under his breath.

That is when he becomes aware that something seems wrong.

He blindly gropes inside his hoodie, only catching hold of the small hard plastic card they were also supposed to bring. He grabs fistfuls of his jacket, then he proceeds to patting his jean pockets and back.

To no avail he finds nothing.

He stops, dead frozen to the spot.

Tsubasa notices this right away and looks at him. "Natsu? What happened?"

All he could manage was a soft, almost squeaky voice. "The list," Natsume finds himself saying.

Tsubasa gapes at him uncomprehendingly. "What lis— _AWW NO WAY." _

They _don't _have the list.

_Persona's _list.

Persona's _shopping_ list.

Now they're screwed.

_**:O**_

By far, this might as well be the worst situation they have ever faced. This is beyond the limit. Definitely, _most definitely_, no greater peril has ever presented itself in such a way that it—

"So, _uhm, _should we get the super absorbent ones or the cottony soft singles?"

Natsume's left eyebrow twitches, his grip tightening on the push cart handle. "I freaking don't know, _kage_!"

"Now don't you talk to me in that tone of voice, mister!" Tsubasa chides. "It wasn't my— Look, I'm really sorry I forgot to get the list on my way out, ok?"

"_Sorry?_ You're just sorry?" Natsume growls.

"Yes, I'm sorry!"

For the ninth time that day, the air around them once again rises a few degrees. Tsubasa stifles a whimper.

"Listen here and let me tell you a few things you shouldn't forget:

'_Sorry' _cannot tell us what brand of color-safe detergent Persona could possibly want this week, Andou. _It. Does. Not"_ —Natsume harshly shoves an unneeded package in the cart one after another into the shelf as he applies emphasis on each word— "give us any idea on what he'd want to put in his curry this time, nor does it ever provide us with the knowledge of how many liters of muriatic acid that man could possibly need or why on earth he'd even want twenty-five cans of liquid buthane. And most importantly—"

Tsubasa raises his arms up and starts waving them about. "Alright, alright! It's my fault, I get it! That sadistic man could be possibly setting up his own concentration camp for all we know!" Tsubasa cries, "But then what do you want me to do about it? It's too late to go waltzing back to school now, right?"

Natsume looks at him for quite some time with an unreadable expression on his face. It almost seems like it was musing by the way he stares at Tsubasa with a deep and thoughtful intensity in his eyes — like they're reading your very soul for any wise insight he might just sprout up.

"…Then I hope you have fun at Persona's concentration camp."

"Well I'm taking you with me then!" Tsubasa jabs his finger at him accusingly and gives out a short bark of maniacal laugh. "Cause we're gonna die in a gas chamber together because we're partners and HAH!"

"Hm, good luck with that," Natsume says unenthusiastically. Picking up a box from the shelf, he reads from it, then chucks it in the cart.

"Yeah and I'm gonn— _Uhh,_ Natsume…" Tsubasa points to the box his _kouhai_ was just holding. "How do you—"

"As I said, Andou, _'sorry'_ does not help us in deciding—my wise judgment does," Natsume tells him as he walks away, pushing the cart before him.

"But then how's your wise judgment supposed to know what Nobara's pad preferences are?"

"I don't know, _kage, _I don't freakin' know."

_**:O**_

"Hey, you got the…?"

"Yeah and I picked up some Tabasco on the way back too."

"And how 'bout the…?"

"Yeah I got that too. Let's go."

_**:O **_

Tsubasa blinks and stares at the jar in his hands. He reads, "Mama Hitachin's Home Remedies: Essence of — _Oh, gross, who even buys this stuff?_"

Natsume looks at him indifferently. "Persona does."

"_Well_ _what the hell does he need it for then?"_

"Have you ever even tasted Persona's _nabe_?"

"Now that you mentioned it…last week's stew did have that _tangyspicypuke-y_ chicken-ish taste to it, I must say."

"I concur."

Tsubasa scratches his chin and asks, "How do you know so much about this stuff anyway?"

Natsume raises an eyebrow cynically. "I don't," he points out.

"Yeah, sure, you don't," Tsubasa says sardonically, picking up another jar of _God-knows-what_ from the cart and reading its label suspiciously. "Sheesh, sometimes I just forget how much of an ass-kisser you really are."

The air around them stifles with heat for the fifteenth time that day.

Natsume grits his teeth, his face rigid with anger. "I don't kiss ass, Andou. You and that gay fag Amane do."

Tsubasa's face contorts with indignation. "Now wait ju—"

"I don't make onigri for my sadistic mentor and rub his feet on days I'm not on some suicide mission, _mage_. I go grocery shopping for him, thanks," Natsume mutters darkly.

"Hey! Who're you callin' _mage_—"

Natsume tosses Tsubasa a bottle of apple ketchup. Tsubasa reflexively catches the bottle but doesn't see the box of nattō coming his way.

_Thwack!_

Tsubasa picks up the fallen box on the floor, his eyebrows furrowing. "_Godammit you little brat!_ You should've told me bef—"

"Heads up."

_Pok! _

Rubbing the place where the plastic jar of pickles hit him on the head, Tsubasa snarls, "_Hyuuga you twerp! _You're not su— Hey whatcha doin'?"

Natsume doesn't look up. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Uhh, you're sniffing coffee — that's what you look like you're doing." Tsubasa approaches his _kouhai_, asking carefully, "…So…may I…know why you are…sniffing the… coffee?"

"May I know why you're such an idiot?"

"…If only I could have the pleasure of bonking some sense into that thick skull of yours, Natsume-chan."

Oh no he di-in't.

_THUMP! _

"_OW MOTHER—" _Tsubasa cries sharply. Clutches the area where "the sun don't shine", he staggers backward and grabs onto the side of the shopping cart for support.

Natsume smirks. "You were saying?"

In between winces, Tsubasa manages to read from the package of coffee beans on the floor beside him. "_FFFFU— THAT WAS FIVE FRICKIN' KILOGRAMS, NATSUME! Five frickin' kilograms worth of force directed at my…" _The rest of his statement gets drowned out by more whimpers and colorful swears.

"Yeah, it's paycheck day and I hate you very much too."

Natsume steps over Tsubasa and picks up the bag of Arabica beans, dumping it in the nearly-full cart. He roughly nudges Tsubasa with his foot.

"Oi _kage_, since you're that much less of a man now, why don't you go pick up Persona's eyeliner and lipstick?" Natsume prompts. Before he wheels off, he turns back to look at Tsubasa, the ghost of an amused sneer still etched on his face. "I'll be at cashier 26."

"You little…_**-wince- **_I am so gonna_ murder _you when I get back_." _

_**:O**_

A strangled and muffled sort of chuckle escapes from Natsume's lips. Pausing midway in unloading the groceries from the cart to the counter, he eyes his senior with a rather pleased look on his face.

"No sir, that is not your color."

Tsubasa furiously wipes his mouth with a tissue Natsume didn't see he was holding. "Ha ha, very funny. You know it's in times like this whe— _Oh why don't you just go wipe that smug look off that face of yours, Hyuuga_?"

Natsume looks as if he's trying really hard not to smile. "No I don't think it can come off with some tissue" —he pauses to suppress another laugh— "and I don't think that _stuff_ can come off with some either."

This time, it's Tsubasa who narrows his eyes. "Do you even have _any_ idea how many different shades of black lipstick there were?"

"Twenty-five," Natsume readily answers.

"Exactly Natsume, _twenty-freakin'-five_," Tsubasa grumbles, "I had to try on almost every one of those…_things_."

Natsume's eyebrows rise. "You mean from Goth Black #25 all the way down to Goth Black #3?"

"So it was Goth Black #3! _OH COME ON!_"

"Does that explain why you brought five different shades of lipstick and eyeliner come back here looking like Persona snogged you in the bathroom himself, then?"

Tsubasa huffs, "Yes."

Natsume holds in another laugh, then resumes to loading the groceries onto the counter. Tsubasa walks toward him and places the Goth Black #3 lipstick and eyeliner on the counter angrily, crossing his arms like a fuming toddler.

"Alright, sir that wou—" The cashier, a girl with fake-looking blond extensions and a face loaded with make-up, stops short to stifle a giggle.

Both Tsubasa and Natsume in turn glower at the girl. The girl all but laughs again.

"So good sirs," she says in between snickers and giggles, "would that be cash, credit or debit?"

Natsume rolls his eyes and takes out Persona's ATM card from his hoodie pocket. The girl hands him the swipe machine.

"You know it is a shame that you're gay, and I was supposed to ask for your number too!" she tells Natsume as he enters the PIN into the machine with much unneeded force.

_Kr-c-crack. _

"Oh damn, there goes the second swipe machine this month," Tsubasa murmurs.

"Could you just…" Natsume says in between grit teeth, "_please_ pack up those groceries for us?"

Apparently, the girl isn't done yet. "Certainly good sirs. I'll go pack up these groceries quick so I could give you two more time to—"

"_JUST_ hurry on up and let us get on with our lives, please."

* * *

Looking back, they've had better times—even if those times consisted mostly of Natsume burning Tsubasa's tartan cap or Tsubasa rambling on about how his junior doesn't seem to respect him enough. Despite that, they have always learned to rely on each other and have each other's backs through whatever because these, among all things, have always been the most important things.

...And _that _is why Natsume hates having Tsubasa as a mission partner. By now, he is pretty sure Tsubasa already shares the same feeling as well.

After all, you can only forget Persona's shopping list _once_.

_**:OOOOO**_

Grab. "W-why are we in an u-u-underground cell in the H-Hanahime Den again, Natsume?"

Shake. "Because all Persona needed was a box of nattō and color-safe detergent and we pretty much dried out this month's pay?"

Sniffle. "I-is this room g-going to fill up with toxic g-gas clouds of corrosive b-b-bathroom tile c-cleaner any moment n-now, then?"

Frown. "No, Persona's going to have us try his newest espresso mix with Tabasco and essence of—"

"_NOOOOOOOOO!"

* * *

_

Ah now wasn't that refreshing? C'mon, I know you liked it. Lol jk.

_**Definition of Terms (Powered by Wiki and yours truly): **_

**1. natt****ō **– fermented soy bean; not the nicest smelling or tasting thing on Earth

**2. Tabasco **– a hot and spicy sauce made from Tabasco peppers, vinegar, salt and aged for three years in white oak barrels

**3. muriatic acid **– a corrosive bathroom tile cleaner; otherwise known as Hydrochloric acid

**4. nabe **– Japanese hot pot

**5. missyJuliette **– my super great imouto. :)

_And yes, apple ketchup DOES exist. Review or be shipped to Persona's concentration camp! _

…_Nah JK. But seriously, though. _


End file.
